By: Dana
Summary: In which we find out what would happen if Merry and Pippin went to Mordor with Frodo, instead of Sam; and yet things have not all changed so drastically as they might.
Characters: Frodo, Merry, Pippin
Pairings: There is some Frodo/Merry/Pippin, but I would not consider it only that
Rating: PG-13 overall
Warnings: Slash that is mostly mild (I am warning for it just because I know some people would prefer me to do so; I do not look at this story, and consider it a slash story above all else; it is, at a very basic level, nothing more than an alternate universe); and of course, The Angst
Author's Notes: I undertook the writing of this for NaNoWriMo 2006, and managed to write the first half of it before the end of November; I came back to it and finished it in January 2007, and now, at long last it has been finished in full (though it hasn't really been all that long), it will be posted.
I will tell you what it is right now, just so that you will not expect something from it that you will not get; but then, I think the summary does a good enough job of telling you Just What This Is: and that is, this is the story of Merry and Pippin going to Mordor with Frodo, instead of Sam.
It was me seeing just how different things could be, and yet have certain other things still be, and end, the same.
Some direct dialogue and narrative has been taken from Tolkien's original, though I will not mark those excerpts directly; just now that it has been done. It varies from chapter to chapter, just what was taken, and how it might have used, directly or not.
I would like to thank dreamflower02 for the beta reading; it has been a joy to work with you on this, you and your enthusiasm. Thank you so much for all your help, and all the time you put into bettering this tale (I certainly think it's better).
fanfic100 claim:
Prompt: And. (#83). Words: 7,738
36/100.
Nominated at the 2007 MEFAs.


Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

Chapter I: The Taming of Sméagol

The first day, they had wandered steadily eastwards. And on the second day they had done so as well, as far as could be told. 'We're thoroughly lost,' Pippin said, running one hand back through his hair and leaving it looking thoroughly mussed, looking weary on his feet. They had circled around once more, had lost hours as well as their proper path. Not that they had a map to guide them – Merry had studied the maps in Rivendell thoroughly, but that would not help them, not now.

'We're thoroughly lost and I should not have followed either of you,' Pippin continued, when neither Frodo nor Merry answer him. 'But then, I never should have allowed you to think that going off alone was the right thing to do. We might still have time...' But he did not say what they might still have time to do.

The land was still and grey about them and Merry knew that Pippin was right. At least, that they should not have followed (perhaps, it was that he thought that Pippin should not have come as well). Merry looked at Frodo – Frodo looked to the east, or what must have been the east, where the air was heavy, the sky blackened at the edge. Merry felt weary, but Frodo looked exhausted more than that.

'We'll just sit here for a while and have a bit of rest,' Merry said, and sat down right away. He could plan all he wanted, but he did not see how he would plan them all out of this.

Pippin sat as well but Frodo stood. 'Frodo, there's no good in all that. We are stuck for the moment, and you'll only worry yourself sick.'

A kindly smile, and Frodo sat near Pippin and Pippin smiled back at him and then stretched out his legs. 'Grey stone and more grey stone, and us stuck here at the top of this cliff with no way down.' Pippin was right, yes, Pippin was right, and Merry looked away from him to Frodo, followed Frodo's line of vision and out into the grey bleakness of the land before them. A sea of it, dark and gloomy, and Frodo looked outwards into it, broken hills and drifting clouds. Pippin pulled his legs up, wrapped his arms about them instead, and rested his head against his knees.

'There's probably still time to go back.'

Pippin had said a number of things, and had been right about some of those things, at least; but Pippin would not always be right. Merry shook his head, and Frodo's gaze didn't waver. He was trying to think their way out of this, Merry knew he was. 'We should get up,' Frodo said. 'Circle back, if we must. We'll somehow find our way down.'

'How are we so sure we've found our proper road?'

Frodo didn't say a thing, though he did stand. He looked out to the twisted hills and then he looked back the way they'd come. Merry stood as well, and felt useless, though determined as well to be of help. Night gathered before them, the land darkening from a sickly green to a more sullen brown. Merry shivered. There was a chill in the air, and he half-wrapped his arms about himself, warding off that chill. But then Frodo looked ahead once more, to the darkness far ahead. A darkness that seemed somehow greater than even that of the coming night.

'It just feels as though we've come to the right one.'

Pippin nodded and settled down again, though he then spoke up again. 'I'd rather go back the way we came, but if you think this is our proper road...' He sounded deeply unsettled. 'I'll follow you, Frodo. That's all I ever meant to do.'

Merry's heart was heavy, and he would send Pippin back if he could, though he'd not send Pippin back on his own – and they couldn't risk that, losing that time, for all they were currently stuck. Pippin shivered as well, and Merry shrugged his jacket off from underneath his cloak, and then offered it to Pippin. Pippin looked at him sharply, smiled, but then he shook his head. Feeling lame, Merry shrugged his jacket back on and then settled his cloak, and Pippin turned and looked at Frodo.

They'd follow Frodo. That was all they ever had meant to do.

The wind shifted and Merry smelled the stink on it, and he crinkled his nose but did little more to shield his face from it. 'I suppose it would be better off for us to circle back.' He thought of the time they'd all lose, and he thought of how he'd gathered up their gear at the shore, and how he'd taken more than what was theirs. They couldn't risk it, losing more time than they already had. Whatever waited them at the foot of the cliff, it was better to face it as soon as they could.

Frodo still looked out into the darkness, the dark line of it and the far off flickering flame. 'Mordor,' he said, muttered it beneath his breath. Merry stood and put his hand on Frodo's arm, though Frodo did not seem to sense him near. 'We could circle back, and we'll do it sooner rather than later. Or we'll go along the ledge and look for some other way down. But for now, we'll rest here a while longer and then look for a proper place to camp.' His gaze shifted and he looked at Pippin.

He wouldn't want to push Pippin too hard, and Pippin would of course complain if he knew that Frodo would want to treat him so. Pippin did stand at that, rubbing at his arms. The air was chilly, getting colder, and Merry didn't like the smell on the wind. Frodo put one arm about his shoulder, and Pippin leaned against Frodo, his arms still clutched about himself. 'Well, we'll find no good in sitting here, out and in the open. We'll find a better place to camp for the night, at the very least. Somewhere sheltered.'

Merry nodded. Momentarily, he recalled the bit of rope he had taken from Sam's pack, but then forgot it just the same. It was more important that they look for, and find shelter, instead, and then get something to eat. 'Well, let's head back a bit, then. We'll get no further tonight.'

Frodo nodded and gave Pippin's shoulders a brief squeeze, but then he stepped ahead and led them back. There was a stony hollow and Merry and Pippin followed Frodo down into it. Night was falling fast, the last of the westward sun caught up in stone and shadow. They ate from the lembas, taking care of what they had – there was no idea how long they might be on this road, lost and in the darkness. Then Pippin huddled beneath his cloak, drew it about him. They sat there in the quiet, the silence too heavy and too long. Merry could not think of anything to say to bring any cheer.

Pippin settled down and put his pack at his side and then sat back, soon asleep against stone, and Merry drew close to Frodo. 'Do you think he's out there still?' he asked in a low voice. Frodo looked at him, surprised, but then he shook his head.

'I couldn't say I know, either way. I have no idea how he might have followed us in the first, only that he has. But perhaps he has lost our trail. Not that we've lost much trail for him to follow.'

Merry nodded and he smiled faintly, and Frodo smiled back at him. 'I hadn't thought you'd known.'

'I've sharper eyes than you've considered.'

Frodo smiled at that once more, but then he looked at Pippin, still sleeping. 'I'd rather we not have brought Pippin but it doesn't seem we've had much choice. Or that I've had much choice at all. This is mine to bear.'

'He'd have followed after anyhow. And I'd have done the same. At least you'll have proper company out here all alone.'

Frodo sighed and it seemed he hadn't heard what Merry had said. 'We have other troubles, at any length. Merry, I'll not run away in the night. I'd likely trip and break something essential. It's best that you rest.'

'You as well, Frodo,' Merry said, and they didn't say much after that. Merry picked himself back up and then settled down near Pippin, not thinking he'd sleep and finding himself surprised when he did. He didn't dream much and he woke several times to the dead smell of cold air. He sat forward and found Pippin and Frodo awake already, munching on lembas wafers. Pippin offered one to Merry and Merry accepted it, and they were up again and on their feet, not long after that.

They walked on and on, and the wore from morning into afternoon, and by the time night approached they had not found a better way down. The ledge went on and on, as far as they could tell, and Merry's feet were growing more weary beneath his legs.

Merry considered their conversation the night before, how Frodo had not thought he'd known of Gollum and their being followed – and sometimes in the mostly quiet, he would hear something behind them, the shuffle of movement or the fall of stone. It was nothing, he thought, but it might have been something. Frodo heard it as well, and Pippin too. They would stop and listen and nothing would come of it. Then they would go on, beneath the sigh of the cold wind. Go on, struggling on, and the ledge went on and on as well. There'd be no end of it, and they should have circled back while they still had time. Broken land all around them, and them all pushing on as though there'd be no end.

Merry followed Frodo, and Pippin stayed at Merry's side. They rested as often as Frodo could talk them into it, though never for too long. They had no Men to look after them, now, just themselves and their swords. The broken land was quiet and the air was stale. It was better that they would have to look after themselves. It was what a hobbit did best, after all.

They went down and then they halted, come to the end. The ridge split off, and there was a wide ravine, with a cliff rising up on the far side, seemingly an age away. There was a wide cleft and that was there only path to follow – they'd not go west, they'd not go east. They could only go down.

They went down further, saw the first life they'd seen in many days – twisted stumps that might have been fair trees, in some other days. The eastern wind whistled sharply overhead and Merry bent his head and went down. Then they came to the end, where it slanted down, and Pippin went forward boldly and peered over the edge. Merry stood back away from it, though, perturbed by how easily Pippin could look down from the height. 'Well, this looks easier,' Pippin said, sitting back. 'If only we had a bit of rope or something else, we might make our way down...'

Merry thought about Sam's rope, once more – that is, it clearly came to mind. Frowning, he knelt down, took his pack and then opened it. 'I think I might have something in here,' he said, and Pippin's laugh seemed merry but far away.

'If you have a bit of rope then you never told me,' said Pippin.

Merry gave a weak shrug. 'Well, I thought, they won't be following after us, us taking the mad and dangerous path we have. I didn't think Sam would need it anymore.'

Pippin gasped softly, but Frodo didn't make a sound at all, and Merry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. But he took the rope out, and looked up at Frodo. 'Oh, don't look at me like that. Would you rather we jump out and see if we can fly? I really didn't think he'd need it anymore.'

And Frodo said, with a weary sigh, 'I suppose we can't just turn around and take it back. Very well. It's dark enough already, and it will only get darker, and soon. It's best we do this now, before it gets any later than it has.'

Merry nodded once more, did up his pack and settled it back on his back. 'I'll go first,' he said, never having been one for scrabbling up trees like Frodo or Pippin, but thinking it best he go first. He looked at the rope in his hand, silken-grey and with something of a silver sheen. He felt uneasy but he went to the edge, looked for some place to tie it off. He hadn't been so brave to look over the edge, but he had to know, breathing shakily as he did.

'We might have better luck if we try and pick a path out ourselves,' Pippin said, and Merry felt steadied, Pippin's hand on his shoulder. 'If anything, we'd all be better off if I went first instead. I've done things like this more often that you.'

'Things like what? Other than things that sound mad.'

Pippin smiled and then took the rope from Merry's hands. Merry felt the smooth stuff slip away, and then he looked at Pippin. And Frodo, beyond him, who didn't say a thing. Well, it was likely they both knew they were better climbers than he was. 'Pippin, here, we'll secure it here. And then we'll secure it about your waist.' They did, and Pippin pulled at it in a curious fashion when it had been tied tight about his waist.

'It seems far too strong for being so thin. Elves really are remarkable folk.'

Then without much more than that, he started down the edge, bracing himself as he did. Merry sat back and felt his stomach twist in knots, though he didn't say a thing. Frodo knelt at his side and Merry, without saying a thing, gripped at Frodo's hand. 'You'll go on next. But we'll wait for Pippin to call out.'

It took forever but then Pippin did call out and the silver rope shimmered as he pulled on it and Frodo took hold of it and then drew it back up. 'It'll be best to get this over as soon as we can,' Frodo said, and Merry was reminded of how it was always best to do that, whenever it had come to facing something bad. Then Frodo tied the rope about Merry's waist, and Merry knew he could trust Frodo, at least. It would not be so bad.

It wasn't so terrible, really, and Frodo lowered him down and he made it down somehow and then, there he was, on his own feet. He opened his eyes and Pippin greeted him but he couldn't quite speak, felt the breath had been knocked from his lungs. Pippin called out and there was a distant rumble, as if of thunder. 'Oh, stars,' he said, looking up. 'Frodo will have to hurry, or else he'll have to wait.'

'I suppose we'll have to wait as well and see,' Merry said. 'You're far braver than I, but I doubt we're either of us wanting to climb back up.'

It turned out that they did not have to worry about that, and before the rain came Frodo had made it to the bottom instead, the rope glimmering from about his waist (though Frodo did seem to take rather more time than even Merry had, and certainly more than Pippin). But almost as suddenly as that, when Frodo had come safely, the sky split open and the rain fell. They took cover as quickly as they could, beneath a sharp ledge that hung out over the stony floor – though it sheltered them, it wasn't much cover. Merry huddled against Pippin and they sat out through the storm, and when it was over they were all damp and chilly but the sky was somehow clearer at least. Pippin went out, first, and looked overhead. There was a shrill cry from on high, in the distance, and Pippin stepped back several steps at that, Frodo catching him before he stumbled and fell.

They stood in silence, looked at each other – they all knew that sound, had heard it before. 'It's wet all over, and it's too dark now to go on anymore. I suppose it's best we wait out the night here.'

Frodo nodded and they all settled back down, didn't speak much and chewed on cold lembas and then they slept, but Merry didn't sleep easily at all. He woke several times in the night, felt cold and tired. When he slept again, he dreamt of sunlight in the Shire, the cool touch of green grass beneath his feet, the sweet taste of kisses he'd not had in what seemed like years. He woke again in the morning, and it was grey and gloomy and he was the first one awake. He let Frodo and Pippin linger for a while longer, but then he woke them.

It was cool out but dryer than the night before, and Merry went out and looked to the sky. Grey and bleak but nothing more than what they had become accustomed to all ready. The sky went on forever and Merry felt very small.

'We'll have to leave the rope,' he said, frowned. 'A clear trail to follow, if anyone is behind.' He went to it and reached up, took hold of it. 'Too bad, really. We won't know if it would be use again.' He wound his hand about it and gave a hard tug. 'Too bad, really. But I won't be climbing up and then scrabbling down without it. I'd break my neck, and the rest of me too.'

'Well, we'll leave it here and be on. I can't say who might follow us, in this bleak land.' Pippin looked up at it, though, and Merry gave one other tug. Surprisingly, it came loose, and he felt cold all over as it came quietly falling down. There was a bit of laughter after that, of them all having trusted their weight to that, but Merry didn't say much, stowing the rope instead. It could have been the knot. It wasn't that the rope had frayed, either. He was glad he'd taken it from Sam's pack.

But then they went on and they didn't look back (Merry didn't look back, at any length). And Merry was glad he'd been able to stow the rope away, they didn't know if it would be of use again. He looked at Frodo and Frodo looked back at him. Perhaps Frodo thought the same as he did. It was good they'd brought the rope back down, and Merry knew there had to be more to the rope. It was Elf-made, and he'd taken it from Sam's pack, but that was all he knew about it.

They went on, and there wasn't much sunlight and they picked their steps carefully, Frodo leading on and Merry happy to take up the end. If they were being followed, and Merry took each step cautiously, kept a lookout as they went along. They left the bottom of the cliff behind them, still damp out from the rain the night before. But then they came to a wide black fissure, the sound of water running far down below – Merry thought of Moria, and this jump couldn't have been any wider than that one. 'We could jump it, I think.'

'And likely one of us or all of us would fall into its depths,' Pippin said sharply, looking over more over the edge. He had seemed more comfortable with the face of the cliff falling away beneath his feet. 'We should go back and look for a better route. This can't be the only one.'

They were all weary and the day was wearing on. But Frodo nodded and Merry dreaded it, knowing they would have to track back through the knotted rocks until they found some better path. If a better path could even be found. They could have jumped it, he knew that. They'd done as well in Moria, before. 'We could always follow the cleft northward and see where that leads us. Better than tracking backwards once again.'

'We'll try that. We've light out at least.' Even Pippin nodded and they went off to the east, trudging on wearily. The fissure widened more and more and darkness crept in, and a gloom settled all around. The fissure came up against a sharp rise of rock, flat stone without a handhold to be seen.

They rested there, in uneasy quiet. Pippin leaned against Merry's shoulder and, at one point, he muttered how they should have just gone back. 'Well, we've no choice now. We'll trek back and then we'll find that better path.'

Merry felt dreadful, but as irritated and tired as they. They ate a little and their rest was through, and they stood again and started back to the west. Pippin pulled his pack up on his shoulders, and Merry looked him, and quite simply his irritation faded. If Pippin could go on without complaining, then Merry would have to do the same. Of course, by the time they came to what might have been their starting point, the sky was too dark and night was too heavy, for all the Moon was shining brightly. 'It's best we rest the night out. Soon, at least,' Frodo said. Merry could only guess at what Frodo was thinking. He looked at him, should have been able to tell, but Frodo's face was tired, and carefully guarded.

They didn't stop right there but that was well enough. There was no cover and they made their way back to the sharp rise of the cliff. They had wasted a full day and Merry's legs felt as heavy as stone. The night seemed beautiful at least, and he was cheered by that. And knowing he had followed Frodo when Frodo had been set on once more slipping away.

'I'm tired,' Pippin said at length, voicing what Merry had been thinking and perhaps what Frodo was thinking as well.

'You aren't the only one, Pip,' Frodo said fondly. 'Well,' he looked up at the face of rock. 'It seems we've made it back to where we started. Perhaps we'll have better luck tomorrow, but for now we need to settle down. My legs feel as though they'll give out straight away if I'm made to walk much more.'

The little shelf they had slept beneath the night before was cold and damp and slick, and would give them no shelter this night. They slept out beneath the moon instead, all three of them huddled together for warmth. The darkness was still very heavy and Merry was tired but he didn't think he'd sleep. It had been too long since they had set a watch, and he told Frodo and Pippin that they could both sleep while he kept an eye out. He'd wake Pippin after a few hours had gone by. Frodo protested but Pippin said that was well enough, and they had Merry's blanket to huddle underneath now that he was gone. The night was dark and chilly and Merry was still damp. They would all catch their death from this chill, but Merry was determined to go on.

He went back and forth for a while, rubbing at his arms. The moonlight was chilly looking, silver-grey, and it clung to everything. It was lovely, it and the stars as well, and Merry paused and looked upwards. Lovely, yes, and bright. But in between the light, there were wide stretches of black shadows.

They should not be here, not one of them.

He turned back, shoulders hunched, and he took several steps back towards Frodo and Pippin before he paused, his foot scuffing against stone. He looked up sharply. He had heard something, a soft hiss against stone. He looked up and then around, and hurried back to Frodo and Pippin, moving quietly as he did.

But Frodo had sat up, and he looked across the stretched of darkness and Merry went down on his knees, turned to look at the rock wall. Something small and dark slithered down the stone, the stone pale and glowing in the moonlight. Sharp bright eyes watched them, scrabbling down as no hobbit would have been able. 'It's him,' Merry said. 'It's Gollum. I suppose it would have done no harm if we'd left our rope behind. And look at us, no further away from him than we'd like – we should have risked that jump.'

'What are we do to?' Pippin whispered sharply. His eyes darted to the left. 'He's coming down steadily but it doesn't seem that he's spotted us yet.'

That was true. 'I suppose he can't. But we should sit quietly at any length.'

'It probably has something to do with these elven-cloaks. And anyhow, I've heard that he doesn't like the light of either Sun or Moon.'

'Then why is he coming down just here?' Pippin whispered. 'And out there in the open, like that.'

'I don't know. If he can't see us then I've no doubt he can't smell us.'

Pippin cringed and Merry sat back on his heels. He looked away, and drew up the grey hood of his cloak. Pippin did the same. 'I can't say I've ever seen him so close. Do you think we could perhaps give him the slip? Or sneak off quietly enough. He's followed you too long, Frodo.' He didn't say it but they all knew what Gollum was after.

They all sat quietly in the deep shadow, looking at Gollum and then at each other. 'What are we to do?' Pippin whispered.

'I can't say. We could go off the way we came – my legs don't feel quite so leaden as they did before. But if we go there's no doubt he won't let up on our trail again, and I suppose he'll have no trouble scaling wide chasms that we'd not be able to jump.'

Pippin was still looking at Gollum, fascinated by his descent. 'We must do something', Pippin said breathlessly. 'He's not so high above the foot of the cliff, now. He'll find us before long.'

'But I don't think he even knows we're here. Look at how he looks around. And – ' Merry paused, and listened very intently – he heard the scuffling noises Gollum made as he crept-climbed, but it seemed that Gollum was talking to himself as well. 'Listen. He's talking to himself about his Precious...' Again, he didn't speak of it, but he knew well enough what Gollum must have meant by that. 'We will either have to sit here quietly, or – or we will have to creep away ourselves, or we will have to catch him and deal with him once and for all.'

Frodo looked at Merry, eyes wide and frightened – though it seemed he didn't seem so very frightened for himself. 'Don't say that, Merry. We don't want to alarm him. He's much more dangerous than he looks.'

Merry nodded, but he was distracted, and he looked at Pippin once more. 'He keeps on creeping closer and closer,' Pippin said. 'Whatever we plan on doing, we'll need to do it soon.'

Merry's hand strayed to the hand of his Barrow-blade. He had a thought about what to do with Gollum. He nodded to Pippin and then to Frodo. 'I can take care of myself, Frodo. I know what I need to do.'

Frodo reached out and grabbed at Merry's cloak, but Merry pulled away from him and crept forwards into the shadow at the base of the cliff, sitting there, waiting. He looked back at Frodo and Pippin – he could see Frodo's bright eyes but Pippin's face was hidden in shadow. He knew what he needed to do. He hardly knew all that Gollum was capable of, but he'd tracked them too long and Merry'd had enough of that. His hand gripped at the hilt of his Barrow-blade, and Merry held his breath. He saw Pippin reach out for Frodo, but then he looked up, waiting.

He could hear Gollum clearer now. He was coming, closer and closer. Merry waited, waited, held his breath until the seconds all ran together in his head. The moment broke about him and he shut his ears to the cold hiss of Gollum's voice. He crouched and he waited and saw how very close Gollum was, now, to the sheer drop nearest the cliff's foot – a dozen or so feet between Gollum and the ground.

And Merry waited, calm and rational and knowing that he would do what had to be done. His fingers twitched against the hilt of his blade. He wet his lips and he very quietly let out his breath. Gollum turned as if to go down feet-first, but a shrill shriek split the air and then Gollum balled himself up tight, falling to the stony ground. Up and out of hiding, and Merry ran, the blade of his short sword flashing as he did. He heard Pippin's cry and then Pippin slammed into him, knocking him sideways. 'You can't kill him!' Pippin shouted at him, the wind knocked from Merry's lungs. His hand skittered for his sword, and he pushed at Pippin, knocking him backwards. Before he knew it, before he even drew breath, Gollum had overtaken Pippin and a less shrill shriek split the air as Pippin cried out, Gollum's teeth sinking into his shoulder – all of Gollum's limbs about him, holding him tight. Another cry and Pippin's head slammed backwards against Gollum's, though Gollum didn't let go.

A number of thoughts spun out of control, and Merry's fingers felt numb about the hilt of his sword. Pippin gasped for breath once – long thin fingers pressed about his throat, squeezing at his breath – and then gasped again, a horrid whistling. Merry stood and watched and couldn't act, and if not for Frodo they'd have been undone.

So it happened that Gollum let Pippin loose, terrified at the sight of Sting. Pippin scrambled to his feet, holding his shoulder and gasping for breath. Merry still held his sword in one useless hand, but he caught Pippin up with his other. Merry tried to fear this thing on the ground, whimpering and groveling, but he could not find that fire in him, could not find that breath. So he sheathed his sword quietly as Gollum babbled on, 'Don't hurt us! Don't let them hurt us, precious! They won't hurt us will they, nice little hobbitses? We didn't mean no harm, but they jumps on us like cats on poor mices, they did, precious. And we're so lonely, gollum. We'll be nice to them, very nice, if they'll be nice to us, won't we, yes, yess.'

'We can't trust him,' Merry said. 'I understand that Pippin would not want to consider me a murderer, but to put this thing from his misery – I think that would be best. He'll find some way after us, if we leave him here. We can't trust him, Frodo.' Gollum had tried to crush the life from Pippin's throat. No doubt he'd do the same, some night as they slept.

Frodo nodded, wiped one hand across his brow. 'I know. I know.'

'Then what are we to do?'

Frodo shook his head, seemed distracted by distant thoughts. 'A pity...' He shook his head once more. He looked at Gollum, seemed to think further on his thoughts. It seemed a long time before he spoke again, and Gollum there and still upon the ground. 'Very well,' Frodo said, as though in answer to some other person who was not there. 'But still I am afraid. And yet, as you see, I will not touch the creature. For now that I see him, I do pity him.'

Gollum lifted his head. Pippin bowed his head against Merry's shoulder.

'What do you mean to do?'

'To spare him, for now.'

Merry knew somehow that he could not argue with Frodo, would not move him now that he had decided his course. Stubborn Baggins, and Merry could only guess what harm it would do them all before the end. All the while, Gollum whined and begged.

'But what are we to do?'

'We have our guide now, I think – he must wonder where we are going, and we are going to Mordor. And Gollum I think knows the way. Don't you, Gollum?'

How pathetic he'd seemed at first, and when he'd lain upon the ground – but now his eyes were sharp and bright. There is something black about him, and Merry did not trust him, no good will come of all this. But Frodo didn't seem to want his counsel, still. Frodo should have trusted him better than that.

Gollum would not speak, cowering as he was. 'I think,' Pippin said, at last, 'what we need to do is sit and rest.' It seemed a good enough place for them to start again. So they did, beneath the moonlight, and that gave Merry a chance to check on Pippin's shoulder – not too bad, nothing too deep, and Pippin shrugged his shirt back on and told Merry, once more, there'd been no need in making such a fuss. Merry though had not paid Pippin as much heed as he might have, attention more than half on Gollum. The creature looked miserable and pathetic and Merry regretted that he would go on living.

Frodo was too sentimental, too sympathetic, and Pippin was more like Frodo than not, when it came to that. Pippin had so very often been a balance to Merry's nature. But Merry had thought, of all times, this would have been the time when Pippin saw that Merry really had thought it all out, that Merry did know what was best.

Now Pippin sat quietly and the Moon was very bright, overhead. Gollum was miserable-looking, a pathetic waste of flesh, and Merry's hand strayed to the hilt of his Barrow-blade. But then he pulled his hand away.

It seemed that Gollum's eyes had gone wide, brighter, and he had seen that faint motion. Merry thought that unlikely. But still, he seemed sure that Gollum would be their ruin.

They all sat and spoke quietly, Gollum watching with his too-large eyes, sitting between them all as he was – at rest but at the same, quite tense. The Moon was very bright, yes, and the night moved on slowly. They spoke less and less and they all grew as quiet as the night had become. But Merry watched Gollum, saw that Frodo watched him as well. They did not speak again, and Merry looked slightly sideways at Pippin – Pippin at least looked perfectly at ease, resting his head against the stone, his eyes shut. It was better like this, Merry knew. He really did wish that there was some way they could send Pippin back. He'd be better off, and safer, with Aragorn and their other friends.

But Pippin slept and Merry and Frodo both looked as if they did, and the stars were bright and thick above them all, and in time the Moon was gone but the night still remained.

It was no surprise when Gollum sprung into action, attempted escape – Merry had sat and watched him long enough, saw how he crouched but did not move much, saw how he waited. It had come to it at last. Merry was on him in a hard moment, dragging him back. That had been no surprise. But Frodo joining him, catching Gollum's feet – that was more of a surprise. Gollum's long, thin fingers scrabbled at stone. His eyes were too bright and too wide. He gasped and twisted and cursed them all. Pippin startled awake, and looked at them all as they pinned Gollum to the ground.

Merry had thought Frodo too sentimental, but he spoke and his words were hard. 'That rope of Sam's might prove useful again.'

Merry nodded and then took the rope out from his pack. He looked at Gollum in disdain, but did not trust himself to speak. Frodo though looked at Gollum, somewhat puzzled. 'And where did you mean to go? We do not plan on hurting you, but we are not friends.'

It seemed clear enough to Merry what Gollum had planned, but he didn't speak and he gripped at the soft-smooth rope, felt it slide between his fingers. 'However we bind him, he'll still need to be of use.' He looped the smooth rope, and Gollum watched him with patience in his eyes, though there did not seem to be much fear.

'You're right,' Frodo said, and his words did not sound as hard. 'He'll need to be of use. We need to make sure he doesn't try running off once more.'

'And there's no wonder. We've been lucky enough not to run into any orcs, and they're out there, I'm sure. Or perhaps he'd plot our demise in some other fashion.' He looked at Gollum, struggling and pathetic sounding – but with venom in his eyes – and remembered long, thin fingers crushing Pippin's throat. 'But well enough. We'll deal with him now...'

Frodo looked at Merry. 'All we need,' he said, and his voice hardened as he continued on, 'is something to keep a hold on him.' Merry nodded, though he hardly thought that Gollum should stay alive. And Frodo went on, and it seemed true enough that they would want Gollum to walk – and he did use his hands and feet so very much, as he scrabbled onwards.

'We'll just tie this one end to his ankle,' Merry said, and looped the soft but strong rope. 'I'll keep a good hold on this other end. He won't run.'

So he did that, and they all seemed surprised at Gollum's shrieking. Merry flinched and Frodo did as well, and there'd be no wonder in it if Pippin had as well. But Pippin didn't say a thing, and Merry wanted to clap his hands over his own ears, to muffle that horrid sound. Thin and awful sounding, and Gollum twisted about himself and tried biting at the rope, all the while screaming more and more. Merry settled back, and watched him – he seemed to sit beside himself, watching Gollum as he twisted. Well, they'd not go easy on him. Of course, this was just another of his tricks.

But he hesitated, and looked at Frodo, who had compassion in his eyes, too much pity. 'I don't see how it would hurt him,' Frodo said, sounding somewhat at a loss – or puzzled, at the least. The more Gollum screamed, the more it seemed likely he would bring danger and then more danger down upon them all. Merry'd secured the knot as tightly as he could, but not enough to explain how Gollum screamed and screamed.

'You need to make him stop,' Pippin said, coming over at last. He crouched down but had not come very close. 'What is the matter with you? Why must you go on, screaming like that?'

But Gollum didn't answer him, though he hesitated a moment and the screams stilled and that was welcome relief – but then he twisted himself up again and nearly knocked Merry away, his voice going up once more, thin and sharp. It was Frodo who spoke up, then. 'Gollum, we can't free you – if you do, you'll only run away. I said as much before – we don't wish to hurt you.'

It seemed strange, that Gollum would trust to Frodo's words – he was just as loud as when he'd been screaming, but then Gollum went on, saying how it burned him, how it froze him, how it bit – and then he went on, cursing the Elves who'd made it in the first. He begged Frodo to take it off him, but Frodo might have been more sentimental than Merry, yet still he was not moved.

Frodo shook his head. 'No, I will not take it off you – not unless...' He paused a moment in thought, regarded Merry carefully and then Pippin, but then his attention fell once more onto Gollum. 'If there is some promise you can make, that will make me trust you, perhaps then I will take it off.'

Merry opened his mouth to protest but sound did not come. Pippin rested his hand at Merry's elbow, and Merry's mouth then snapped shut. He looked at Pippin, smiled faintly, and drew his hand to Pippin's, and held on tight. Then he looked to Gollum, at one moment still and looking at Frodo, without blinking – but then the next moment came, and he twisted about himself once more, grabbing at the rope, still in pain. Gollum, who went on in his cold voice, swearing he'd do what was wanted, yes, yesss, if just they'd take it off.

'It hurts us.'

'Swear?'

Sudden clarity, and Gollum looked at Frodo with less madness in his eyes. 'Sméagol,' he said, his eyes wide and staring at Frodo. Merry would have pulled his hand from Pippin's, but Pippin did not let go. Merry held his breath, and Gollum spoke again, voice clear and sharp. 'Sméagol will swear on the Precious.'

Merry gasped. Gollum meant to swear on the Ring. His own reaction was nothing in comparison to Frodo's, however. Merry felt a shifting in the air, turned to see Frodo draw himself up. He gathered his breath back and watched Frodo – a part of Frodo he had not seen before, so stern and looking so dangerous. Frodo had always known what to say to deal with the Sackville-Baggins or other unwelcome relations. He had a glare that was more effective than words. For a moment Merry thought Frodo only meant to stare. But then he spoke, and his words were hard and cold.

'On the Precious? How dare you?' Frodo said. 'Think! One Ring to rule them all and in the Darkness bind them... Would you commit your promise to that, Sméagol? It will hold you...' Merry stared, fascinated, as Frodo went on. It would hold him. It would twist his words. Merry could not look away.

But Gollum cowered and repeated himself and Frodo still seemed distant, dangerous, the tone of his voice stern. 'And what would you swear?'

'To be very very good,' said Gollum, and Merry was sickened as Gollum went forward on his grasping hands, groveled at Frodo's feet. Sickened, cold as well. He gripped at Pippin's hand and sat back, disgusted but fascinated all the while. As Gollum swore by It, as Frodo told him he could – swear by It, but not on It. And Gollum knowing all the while that the Ring was before him, or perhaps he had not known but then Frodo made that very clear.

Frodo shuddered and then took a great breath. The mattered was settled and Frodo as well seemed to settle back into himself. Pippin's hand drew away and Merry's hand was left aching, cold. He sat and looked at Frodo, who seemed smaller than he had just been – smaller, and Gollum seemed even smaller, as well. Merry reached up with one weary hand and rubbed at his eyes.

But Gollum had given his promise, and that was through. 'Take off the rope, Merry,' Frodo said, and his voice seemed very small as well. Merry nodded and moved right away, wondered if he was as reluctant as he felt. He looked at Gollum and wondered at what madness had taken them all. Merry worked the knot free and then Gollum was up right away, prancing in joy. Merry sat back, slowly drew the rope up and then stowed it once more in his pack.

Gollum looked at Frodo, and there seemed to be a strange and uneasy understanding between them – and Merry felt threatened by that, more threatened than the thought that Gollum might strangle them all in their sleep. Maybe Gollum would not need to kill Frodo as well. Maybe he would only need to see Merry and Pippin dead.

'Will we be going on?' Pippin's voice was thin and clear.

'We ought to. The Moon is gone and we've only stars to guide us.'

Gollum scampered and agreed, seemed friendly now where he had been sharp venom before. Merry did not trust this change. He found it hard to trust Frodo as well, that he could bring out this change. It all rested upon the Ring, and they all knew that It was evil, black.

Merry let out his breath. He rubbed his hands together, wanted that warmth. Gollum skipped about and Merry thought of an abandoned puppy, being shown affection, love. Could they trust him? Did Gollum truly know the way?

'We will be off now, yes! There's only one way across between, and I found it, I did! Orcs don't use it, Orcs don't know it. We'll go through the Marshes, we will. Orcs won't follow after, they'll go round and round for miles!' He scampered a bit and then went to rest at Frodo's feet, looking up at him, sickening, fawning. 'Very lucky you came this way. Very lucky you found Sméagol, yes! Follow Sméagol. Follow Sméagol!' He started off, the rapid padding of his hands and feet. 'Sméagol knows the way!'

'Sméagol!' Frodo shouted after him, rising to his feet. Merry's trust fell away and he rose as well, Pippin too. Gollum had gone from sight but he came back, looked at them with his bright eyes, waiting for them to come. Merry went ahead at first, but Gollum paid him no heed – waited on Frodo, on Pippin, both of whom had only given him kind words. Frodo, who'd been hard and cold and stern. Pippin, who'd bear the mark of their meeting Gollum for days at least.

So they set off once more, the stars looking down on them and Gollum leading them out into the night. Silent, they went on silently, other than the soft sounds they made as they moved.

chapter two